summary literally just micky 17 & 18 fight to eat you out!!!
tags/warnings second person pov, smut, oral, fem receiving, technically a threesome??
When you first found out there were two Mickeys, your immediate thought was how the hell you were going to explain this to Kenneth without getting all three of you killed.
Your second thought? There were two fucking Mickeys. Two of your boyfriends. Two men who were hopelessly in love with you.
Two men who would do anything to please you which is exactly how you ended up in this position.
Honestly, you don’t even know how it happened.
One minute, the three of you were arguing about what the hell you were supposed to do, the next, Mickey 17 was between your legs, his tongue lapping at your cunt while Mickey 18 sat by the bed, rubbing over his clothed cock, eyes dark with jealousy as he watched, his grip on himself tightening and his jaw clenching as he watched 17 work.
His tongue moved like he’d done this a hundred times before because he technically had. Every movement over your clit was muscle memory, honed from how long the two of you had been together. Mickey 18 knew exactly what it felt like to have you writhing beneath him, and the fact that 17 was the one drawing those desperate little sounds from your lips instead of him was driving him insane.
He exhaled sharply, shifting in his seat like he was debating whether to wait his turn or shove 17 out of the way. But 17 wasn’t stopping—not even sparing his double a glance. He was devoted, completely focused on your pleasure, moaning against your cunt like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted (because in his mind, it was).
“Fuck,” 18 muttered, palming himself harder. “That’s my pussy too, y’know.”
Mickey 17 lifted his head slightly, looking up at 18 with wide, hazy eyes, lips slick with your arousal.
“But… it’s my turn,” he said softly, almost pouting.
Mickey 18 let out a sharp breath, like he was barely holding himself together. Then, he moved.
Before you could process it, he was between your legs, shoving 17’s shoulder in an attempt to get him out of the way. “Move.”
17 let out a small noise of protest, hands still gripping your thighs, eyes flickering between 18 and you, unsure, almost as if wanting you to tell 18 to wait his turn.
But 18 wasn’t waiting, and honestly, he wouldn’t even listen to you if he told him too. He pressed his mouth to you, groaning as he finally got his first taste, lapping at your cunt like you were water and he was a man in the desert.
17 whined softly but didn’t pull away. Instead, after a beat, he leaned back in, his tongue darting out to flick over your clit, while 18 groaned against your entrance, working his tongue deeper.
The two of them licked and sucked in tandem, their breath hot, their mouths wet and eager, both of them determined to pull you apart.
17 clung to your thighs, eyes fluttering shut as he focused on the sensitive bundle of nerves, whimpering softly with every little twitch of pleasure you gave while 18 was rougher, more demanding, moaning against your cunt as he pushed his tongue deeper, like he wanted to devour you whole.
Pleasure coursed through you, your body arching between them as their mouths worked in perfect, desperation. It was overwhelming, the contrast of them both.
Your fingers tangled in 17’s hair, gripping tight, and he whimpered into you, the sound vibrating through your core. He was so good for you, so eager to please, to be wanted. 18 groaned at the noise, gripping your hips and pulling you even closer to his mouth, dragging his tongue through your wetness with a satisfied hum, like he was trying to drown himself in you.
It was almost too much. Their mouths, their hands, the sounds they were making—moaning, whining, competing for your pleasure.
Your thighs shook as heat coiled in your stomach. Your back arching as you gasped, choking on a moan, and that was all the encouragement they needed.
17 sucked your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking faster, more determined, and 18 groaned into you, his hands spreading your thighs wider, his mouth moving rougher, needier—both of them working together, completely in sync now.
It hit you like a freight train. Your vision blurred, your breath hitched, and then you broke—pleasure crashing through you in waves, your body shaking as they held you down, licking you through it, moaning against you like they were the ones falling apart.
You barely registered the way 18 groaned in satisfaction, the way 17 let out a little whimper, nuzzling against your thigh, licking up every last drop like he couldn’t stand to waste a single thing.
It was only when the tremors in your body subsided that 18 finally pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, looking so very smug.
“See?” he murmured, voice thick with pride as he glanced at 17. “That’s how you do it.”
17 just blinked up at him, wide-eyed and still flushed, his lips parted slightly like he was about to argue but then, slowly, a small, almost dazed smile curled at his lips.
“I think we should do it again,” he said softly, voice still breathless.
18 snorted, shaking his head before turning back to you, dragging his fingers over your thigh. “Yeah? What do you think, sweetheart? Think you can handle another round?”
Your body was still trembling, your breath still ragged but with two Mickeys looking at you like that, both of them ready to do whatever you wanted?
⟢ mickey 18 x f!reader x mickey 17 ⊹⠀ ﾟ ˖ post-canon au
nsfw/mdni ----- warnings: threesome, overstimulation, voyeurism, oral sex, fingering, handjob, dirty talk, 18 being mean to 17 (classic), excessive swearing
mickey-18 knew he was lucky to be alive. all because of some faulty wiring in the bomb’s remote ignition, thanks to arkady’s failing-up approach to science. the look marshall and 18 shared when they realized there would be no explosion was incomprehensible — even if he included 17’s fluke with the crevasse, mickey barnes had never been so dumbfounded to be alive. then, after that confounding moment of nothing, death still came knocking at the door, and it still wasn’t his. in fact, he was the one dishing it out!
maybe mickey barnes would never die again. been there, done that, got the memories to prove it. there’s two of ‘em now? who cares. is it a multiples violation? who cares. that’s what the council decided in the end. who. fucking. cares.
wanna know the only thing 18 cared about?
that time of the night when his world shrank to the size of a bedroom. when the door could be locked, and clothes could come off, and everyone else could go fuck themselves. the only people on the planet who mattered were you and him. and 17. he was there, too.
the only thing 18 wanted to do was feel his body on yours, skin on skin, perfectly aligned. he wanted to lavish your lips with kiss after kiss, quicker than your mind could keep up with, each one deeper and rougher and dirtier than the last. his hands traveled restlessly over your curves, squeezing and gripping like he wanted to leave his mark on every inch of your skin. he kissed and bit his way down your neck, your breasts, your stomach, and his smirk grew wider with every whimper and moan he coaxed out of you. it made him so hard to know he was the one who could do this to you, he was the one who made you feel like this, sound like this. the gratification was unparalleled.
he still remembered the way it felt to fuck you only a couple hours after he’d been printed, still chased that feeling every time you’ve fucked since. it was always a sensory overload, that first time. every mickey was always a little too exhausted for sex straight out of the printer, but there was really nothing else like it, so he couldn’t pass it up — 18 certainly didn’t. electricity firing in all directions, lighting up his nerves in unexpected ways, leaving him boneless, helpless to the pleasure. he kind of floated like that when he was on oxy, but it wasn’t the same. the drug didn’t capture that raw, almost painful feeling that made him want to scream when he sank into you, when you pressed him into the bed, when he came into you, flashing lights blinding his rolled-back eyes.
he wanted that all the time. it was too much, and that’s the way he wanted it. if somethin’ had to take him out, if he had a say in any of that the next time around, then he wanted to go out drowning in you. it was that or nothing.
and also, 17 was there.
the whole thing with the creepers and marshall’s death changed him a bit, he wasn’t such a pathetic lil shit anymore, thank fuck. buuuttt some things stayed the same.
as 18 made himself comfortable between your legs, 17 watched. it was like he didn’t know how to participate, even though they’ve been having sex with you for years now — 1 through 18, all the same difference — and you had sex diagrams and it should all make sense by now.
dumbass, 18 thought as he spread you open, getting that first taste of your arousal in a long, teasing lick before sealing his lips over your clit and getting to work.
the multiples thing still made 17 cagey. he always started off a little nervous, a little uncertain, but he eventually came around. ‘you’re thinkin’ about it, don’t think about it,’ 18 always said, but 17 never remembered. he’d started off just sitting there on the edge of the mattress, eyes wide, jaw slack, hand on his dick — over his pants because he was always the last one to take his clothes off, dumbass — touching himself idly until he decided to do something.
what will it be tonight? 18 would wonder gleefully in the privacy of his thoughts. he would start these nights making bets with you on what would set 17 off if you didn’t scold him for bullying his clone too much. but it was just too easy and too fun.
your whimpers turned into whines as 18’s mouth brought you higher and higher, your voice so broken and beautiful in his ear that he couldn’t stop himself from moaning too. you sank your fingers into his hair, throwing your head back on the pillow with a cry when he pushed two fingers into you. gradually, he worked up to a brutal pace, as fast as his hand could go from his angle, all while his lips and tongue worked you over in tandem. it was a practiced art of his, getting you off this way, and his cock throbbed not only from the pure bliss of getting to do it, but because it was so clear how much you loved it.
when your orgasm hit you, your back arched and you shouted his name — almost. suddenly, you were locked in a fevered, shaky kiss, 17’s hands cradling your overheated face, pulling you up to meet him as he leaned over you. languid as if he’d just come too (though he definitely hadn’t yet, not by a long shot), 18 lifted up from your pussy, laughing at his clone’s desperation.
he yanked at 17’s shirt, his waistband. “you’re overdressed for the party, buddy.”
“shut the fuck up,” 17 mumbled against your lips, but his hands started tugging at his clothes, fussing when 18 tried helping him.
you reminded them of the rules, “play nice, boys, or we’ll stop,” and in unison, they replied, “yes, ma’am.”
even this part was 18’s favorite. the sharing. it wasn’t so bad, when 17 finally figured it out.
he got to sit right beside his clone and watch as your mouth sank over 17’s cock, your lips wrapped so snugly around the head. got to hear the wet sounds as you worked him over, taking in more and more of his shaft until you met the base, fully in, your tongue working magic he couldn't see but knew all about. you swallowed around him carefully, and it was like 18 could feel it, just a psychosomatic response, the memory of how you’ve had him exactly like that before. he grabbed your hand and pulled it into his lap, wrapping it around his own cock, the head so slick with pre-come. you didn’t move your hand so much as you let him fuck it. your attention was focused on the cock in your mouth, the moans escaping from 17’s throat, the shifting of his hips as he wanted move but tried to be mindful not to choke you. 18 fucked your hand fiercely, so enamored with the sight of you like this — it was like watching porn, but it was real and it was him, even if it really wasn't. he knew exactly how it felt, but he could see it in a whole new way.
he didn’t even mind when 17 rested his cheek on the outer curve of his shoulder, leaning into him for support to keep from melting into the mattress, moaning loudly, shakily, as you picked up speed. yeah, he knew exactly how that felt, and it was fucking incredible.
18 came over your fingers with a grunt, chest heaving, his face covered in a light sheen of sweat. 17 was still stuck there against his side, his eyes fluttering, lost to the pleasure, and he decided to be a good guy and help him along: “just look at that, she’s so fuckin’ beautiful like this. move a little, she can take it, can’t you, baby? yeah, you know she can, man, just fuck her a bit- there you go, that feels fucking good, right?” he said every filthy thought that entered his mind, his voice curling darkly around each word, until 17 tipped over the edge, gasping as he came, lodged deep in your throat.
you should be proud of him, right? for provoking his clone in a good way for once.
this was all that meant anything to 18. there was a whole new world to discover, homes to build, life to create. he knew all of that, and it was all well and good.
but this. nothing could top it. it was the one and only thing that mattered. fuck the rest.
Mickey 18 definitely lovessss backshots...i'm thinking mickey 18 is more of an ass guy in comparison to 17 my beloved
anon you might be a genius
where I'd say 17 is more of a tits/thighs guy 18 is definitely an ass man through and through and is SUCH a menace about it.
You absolutely cannot walk past him without getting a cheeky slap on the ass, it's literally a magnet to him.
Oh, and backshots.... Hands down doggy is his favourite position, he loves to be able to see your face but there's something so sexy about taking you from the back and seeing how your ass jiggles with his thrusts (also.. imagine a mirror so he can still see you/watch you guys fucking ... I think he'd be really into that)
It's so versatile too, sometimes he just likes to have you on all fours, him kneeling behind you gripping your hips and giving you a few spanks as he fucks you, but other times it's just sooo intimate. He loves taking you from the back and pressing himself against you entirely, his front against your back and head resting in the crook of your shoulder filling your ear with his grunts and groans.
Sometimes he'll slip a hand up around your throat, not choking you but just holding you there, and loves to make you turn back to sloppily make out with him. It's messy, uncoordinated, pure teeth mashing but it's so sexy.
Sometimes he'll bite your shoulder as he cums to stop himself from being too loud and afterwards he likes to lay there for a while, him still in you, and kiss where he's bit and sucked on your neck/shoulders.
simply cannot get the thought out of my head that you some how slice your cheek and mickey 17 leaves in a panic to go get a bandage and returns to see mickey 18 cleaning the blood from its source with his tongue…
ahhh munch mickey 17 😳 do you think mickey 18 would be a munch too 👀
Real talk, every Mickey is a munch ‼️ but where Mickey 17 savours you, Mickey 18 devours you.
Mickey 17 likes to take his time, I feel like he's most confident between your thighs, it always starts with you two of you already entwined before he sinks his way down the bed, calloused hands brushing against your body on the way. He messages and kisses your calves, working his way up your legs until he's nestled comfortably between your thighs. He likes to hold your thighs as he eats you out too, sometimes hooking them over his shoulders to keep you closer. He's too embarrassed to ask but he loves you sitting on his face, hands massaging soft circles into your hips as you grind down on his face using him. Overall, hes obsessed with you using his mouth to get yourself off, absolutely melting whenever your hands find their way to his hair to pull him deeper to your cunt.
On the other hand, Mickey 18 eats you like you're his last meal and it's about to be taken away. Totally think he's a biter too, where 17 would softly kiss your skin instead 18's teeth graze against it and nibble 100% leaving marks. And in comparison to 17 loving your thighs, I think 18 would love your stomach, if you have a bit of tummy he'd definitely give it a teasing bite as he makes his way down your body to your core. He grips your hips tightly and holds you in place as he eats you out, not going anywhere, and even after you've cum will keep going. He wants to pull everything from you that he can, living for the way your body tenses and shudders against his tongue.
i would add something about them both eating you out at the same time but this fic by bethsvrse is already so perfect sooo 🫣🫣
if your asks are still open what do we think about mickey 17 degradation…. the praise kink is so obvious that i think it works well, he needs to be taken apart and put back together again. also i think he lets 18 but not nasha call him “baby girl” (and enjoys it)
I feel like there's a fine line when it comes to Mickey 17 and degradation, it excites him but he struggles to speak up when it gets too much for him. He needs a good balance between the praise and the degradation, like you said he needs to be taken apart and put back together again, handled with care.
I think the best kind of degradation for him is the kind that simultaneously praises him or reinforces he's yours, sure you're calling him a slut but you're calling him your slut and knowing he belongs to you is what he needs.
Or, involving Mickey 18 I would absolutely love a good cop/bad cop dynamic with 18 degrading 17 and reader/nasha holding him together with praise. 18 thinks you're too soft on 17, he needs toughening up, and loves to degrade him... 18 definitely has a thing for making 17 cry a little bit and having to watch you wipe his tears and reassure him afterwards. I feel like 18 might also have a bad habit of accidentally pushing 17s boundaries, though. Being his clone sometimes he operates under the idea that his and 17s boundaries must be the same, but this isn't the case, contrary to his belief 17 is so much more delicate. In that regard it's definitely a learning curve, but with a third such as reader or nasha there to keep him in check, 17 can still thrive being degraded by 18.
Also I'm 100% on team 18 calling 17 baby girl, or any variation of baby really... I think he likes to call 17 a crybaby best, the insult almost becoming a pet name.
i genuinely have not stopped thinking about being sandwiched between mickey 17 and 18 it's driving me crazy😭
oh anon I'm 100% on the same page 😭 the differences between how they would act absolutely makes me go wild too.
I feel like it would give a very much good cop bad cop vibe in a sense, Mickey 17 is so tender but Mickey 18 is a little more rough around the edges and they're definitely fighting for your attention.
17 is softer and more relaxed in his touches, he's had you before and he knows you love him, but there's also a nervous desperation in the way he touches you when 18s around like he's scared you'll pick him instead. He's touchy, they're both touchy, but 17 is so so talkative murmuring compliments and praises as his lips never leave you skin.
18 is more passionate, not exactly violent but you wouldn't be surprised if his grip bruises (not that you'd mind), and he almost growls at the way you affect him. He knows how many times 17 has had you, technically those are his memories/him too but it still makes him incredibly jealous regardless. He seems to constantly be trying to one up 17, he loves when you look at him often gripping your chin to make eye contact. He's less talkative than 17 but not anymore quieter, he grunts, groans, growls, there's something animalistic and unhinged in his reactions but it's intoxicating.
Either way everything they're both doing is entirely for you, focusing on your pleasure more than your own, at first it's a competition but somewhere along the way it becomes a team effort and there's no surviving how well they work together to get you off once they finally click. A perfect ying and yang.
